Douglas Schorr

Turn a dollar a day spent into a dollar a day contributed.

What if the Republic of South Africa offered its millions of struggling citizens a place in a New National Army?

It would not be a meaningless woke exercise involving the pouring in of trillions of rand of donations from the world’s liberals. Nor would it be yet another ANC-negotiated overseas loan or their demand on the few remaining taxpayers to fund an extravagant welfare program designed to wrap the country’s indigent in a warm cloak of comfort. While a degree of comfort would certainly be provided, SANNA would be a tough love balancing act.

By voluntarily donning the overalls of the army, participating citizens agree to being organised and guided towards reinventing their lives. It is an initiative that parents, teachers and supervisors the world over have adopted for years. It is just odd that suddenly the modern human elite should believe it is no longer, err, “necessary.” It is more than that: for millions of those in SA who “cannot” it will interrupt their descent into a life of such despair that it becomes a life not worth living.

Picture Magdalene and her welcoming “soldiers” greeting the leading grandmothers. “Come this way, Ma,” she says, gently taking the baby from exhausted Edna’s hip. “Come, children,” she calls out. To her ladies, she adds, “They’re so tired. Take them for a bowl of meat stew. Then they can bathe.” “You have running water,” Edna exclaims. Magdalene points to the bank of showers behind a thin sacking curtain. “My job is done,” cries the ancient lady as she collapses.

Picture a dozen surly, slouching young men at another gate. Their posture changes as the sergeant barks the rules. They smarten up.

They want this.

For the first time, someone in authority is interested. And there’s perhaps a job at the end of it! Phineas, the tall, broad-shouldered fellow with all the scars of battles won (and cell phones stolen), bends at the waist and starts sobbing.

Before blame is heaped on their backs, be ready to recognise that while the genuine economic strugglers (as compared to the hordes of “I was an anti-apartheid activist”) make up a significant part of South Africa’s problems by numbers, in terms of the weight of eroded value, they are a small part of South Africa’s odd determination to become Africa’s wealthiest failed state.

Once the most industrialized nation in Africa, South Africa was a beacon of economic potential and innovation. The First World package immigrants built was handed intact over to the new one-person, one-vote government. Now, South Africa is a “failed state,” but it’s too big a domino to be openly discussed. The situation is so dire that many were surprised when Brazil, Russia, India, and China in 2010 invited South Africa to join BRIC to add the “S”.

By then, in the game liberals play, “developing” countries had been renamed “emerging,” as in “the butterfly that follows the well-gorged worm.” The strange move here was that BRIC, intent on showing the world an alternate way, invited a “de-emerging” nation! This was especially odd since President Xi knew Zimbabwe very well. Since 1980, Zimbabwe has been considered the crystal ball that foretold SA’s future. Zim was by all international measures once a very beautiful “butterfly” but has collapsed into ruins for all but the elite.

It’s not complicated. In modern economies, it is not rhetoric but industry that alone supports us all. Industry needs captains. The moves to failure in SA began earnestly in 1999 when the African National Congress (ANC) dissolved the government of national unity. Academic Mbeki’s policies were so disconnected from reality that, during the HIV-Aids outbreak, it became the “eat vegetables” government. In 2009, Zuma greased the foefie slide.

A relic of the days before playgrounds, the foefie slide involves sliding down a cable while hanging on for dear life with a piece of pipe threaded onto the cable. The stop is the tree at the bottom. The larger the slider, the greater the anticipation. Zuma’s bloated cabinet’s ride won gold medals in corruption, nepotism, and making theft acceptable. Blame the Guptas! The masses watched as a health system that once had functioning clinics within reach of all collapsed, while ministers dreamed of glittering centralized hospitals. On top of that, “education” mostly produced Yuval Harari’s “useless class.” Worse lay at the municipal level—getting basic services for their squattercamp-like homes. Municipal incompetence caused mounting job losses as companies closed. Government interference in business destroyed the economic climate so thoroughly that the number of potential jobs will never be known. Those who ordinarily would have tried didn’t. As productivity and worker competency crashed, the government believed it had won the day by raising minimum wages and expanding social welfare. Crime soared—not normal crime, but daily senseless acts of violence and sadism not seen anywhere else in the world, not even in war. Violence was at home, too, but that was understandable. Sadly, the clueless government, egged on by Western Woke, labelled it “gender violence.” It isn’t. It’s “identity violence.” Stolen roles have not been replaced:

“I was a respected warrior. Now I wait outside the post office for a dollar for the month.”

“I was in charge of my own hut; I cooked and served, cleaned, and made fine things. Women cared for all. Now I sit, hoping you’ll have something,” she replies.

South Africa is desperately sad and weighed down by a chronically unhealthy population. Add unemployment to underemployment, and South Africa takes gold. That’s today. 60% of the population is under 25. Life beckons, but the majority are ill-equipped to earn an income. Their parents can’t help because they too need guidance. And there are three-quarters of a million orphans.

The government’s answer? Going massively into the fastest-rising, overseas-owned debt. They used Rands—very silly. Sillier still, at great expense, parliament meets in the most expensive city. Party members, appointed by the party from party lists, are there to party for the party, having voted for the party. MPs would be horrified to learn that “constituency” suggests “set up, fix, put in order, resolve.” Well, they can go.

SANNA would not be a traditional military force but a national service corps focused on providing the basics. Even as the doors open, community building must happen. Education and skills development follow, and with them, job creation. It’s a massive undertaking, but tackled according to “small is beautiful” rules, it will not only work but, in doing away with the waste of today, it will more than pay for itself.

Many years ago, after an hour at the quiet end of the bar counter, I thought the ambassador’s shining eyes radiated agreement. Expecting an excited, “Comrade Doug, I’ll fly this to the President,” he destroyed me. He lightly punched me on the arm and said, “Ha, but will this SANNA nonsense bring down the cost of goods in the townships’ corner shops? My mother is always demanding I send taxi money to get her to Pick n Pay!”

Dear Reader, don’t be A N C. Say, “I would like to know more about SANNA.” I’ll reply, “I’m on it!”